They called him the Great, for he was The Great
by Celebwen Telcontar
Summary: Harry finds out that he is the Heir of Alexander the Great:the King of Macedonia.Don't turn away!Read and review,please!I don't know when I'll next update,so please review until then! I'm currently revamping the entire story, so it's on Hiatus for a while
1. I'm the Heir of WHO?

Celebwen Telcontar: I hate these new stories where Harry is the Heir to Elessar, and that he always gets Hermione. Well, this fic is something other than simply being a HPLOTR crossover. It is a combination between history and HP, mainly the history of a certain Macedonian king, namely Alexander III son of Phillip II. Don't run away! It's not that bad, is it?

Balrog: I certainly hope not. You worked for quite a time on this before it was named and given to the website. This fic will be HGSS, RWLL, HPGW, NLLB, ADMM, RLNT, and DTBZ (Female Blaize). I hope people like it!

Celebwen Telcontar: Well, people, if Harry Potter belonged to me, then I would be having people pay me for it! Oh, there's a nickel! Oh, and a dime! Wow!

Balrog: Get a life. Look, they're only plastic! Plas-tic!! Review people, and no flames or I'll flame you right back. And that's not just an empty threat.

Okay, _bleh blah blih _Parseltongue and _bleh blah blih_ telepathy "bleh blah blih" normal, vocal speech.

* * *

Professor Binns kept rambling on, Hermione the only one who kept up with the notes.

"And Alexander III of Macedonia then put down a curse on his deathbed: any descendant of his, if ever in dire peril and in need of a comrade and with hopeless tasks before him would gain all of his knowledge and his possessions, including his beloved Bucephalus, the last of the intelligent telepathic horses. His armor would be spell-proof, including any death curses, and his belt would have a wand holster as well as the scabbard for his sword. All of this would happen when his heir became of age, or when all family members were eliminated. So far, no one has ever been gifted with the effects of Alexander III of Macedonia. Homework is three rolls of parchment on the life and works of Alexander III of Macedonia and his empire, along with the properties of intelligent telepathic horses, and how Alexander made horses bow before him. Due when you return from summer break." The class slowly came to life, and all exited, Hermione excited and ready to get to work. Harry trudged up to the great hall, still yawning, and started to take his place for the end of year feast. This year he was going to be of age, so on July 31, he could produce spells without the Ministry of Magic descending down on him.

On Harry's birthday, several things happened. The normal owls came in, but there was a strange black seabird as well, bearing a letter.

* * *

"Harry Potter, son of James Potter, you have inherited my kingdom. You are in great need, and so Bucephalus is now yours. He will be arriving within the hour, so you need to tell your family to help them adjust. They will not be attacked by the horse, so you need not worry. The armor and other effects will be shipped as soon as possible, and will arrive with the rest of the horses.

"Many happy returns, Harry Potter, my Heir.

"Alexander III son of Phillip II, your ancestor."

* * *

The letter translated itself into English from Greek, and there was a brilliant light from his window. He looked out in the backyard, and saw that there was a large black horse browsing on the shrubbery. Aunt Petunia would be enraged.

"Who? Bucephalus?!" Harry called softly. The horse looked up and neighed quietly, bobbing his head up and down.

_Yes, it is I. Come down, new King of Macedonia, and greet me properly. I cannot see you fully while you stare down at me like an eagle!_ The stallion motioned downward with his head. Bucephalus had on his brilliant saddle and bridle, and his coat gleamed in the moonlight. Harry threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, along with his tennis shoes, and silently trotted down to see the beautiful animal. He exited the house, and was met by the overenthusiastic horse. _You look good, young master! But your muscles have not fully developed. Oh, well. They will. Will you get onto my back so that I can introduce you to your home in Macedonia?_ Harry looked at the horse's saddle. He didn't know how to mount. _Alright. When I kneel, get astride of my saddle, and I will stand under you. In the future, you will need to learn how to properly mount._ The great stallion went to his knees, and Harry sat astride the horse. Bucephalus rose, then with a crack, both horse and rider were gone.

* * *

When they cracked into existence, Harry felt slightly weak. He rode the stallion as he picked his way down a hill, then broke into a swift canter as they came up unto the Tumulus. The great warhorse leapt up the hill, then trotted off to the ancient palace, where he focused the great jewel on his bridle.

_This is absurd. I can't deal with this, the palace and the city of Pella being demolished like this. I never did this with Alexander, though he was a wizard. I never needed to. Now I will resurrect the palace, so that you can live there. When the time is right, the people of Greece will turn to you as their leader. Then, your opponent will have need to fear, for I will be there with you, you will be the leader of the Greeks and the Macedonians, the Heir to the conqueror of Persia and Asia, and all of them that live in the lands you conquered will bow to you._ Harry stared at the back of his horse's neck, shocked. He would rule all Asia and Greece?! _And the Middle East. I'm not sure how Osama bin Ladin or Sadaam Hussein will feel about this, but you will not be opposed with _this_ army._ Harry's jaw dropped as the looks of the ancient palace. _It now has indoor pluming and insulation against both heat and cold. The walls are magically impregnable, and the stables have every horse your ancestor ever owned in them. The home has in it all of your inherited wealth. I would deeply suggest you take a wife, be she Macedonian or not, in order to keep your line strong._

"Whoa. Alright, I suppose I can sleep here tonight."

_Then go. I'll be alright in the stable. Actually, can you untack me and groom me down first?_

"Sure. Show me the way to the stable." The stallion wandered into the stable, and Harry dismounted with great difficulty. He fumbled with the buckles, then laid the saddle, saddle blanket, and bridle on the posts and half-walls, then began to groom the stallion.

When he was finished with the horse, Harry went back into the palace, found his bedchambers, stripped to his boxers, and fell asleep on a sleeping couch.

* * *

The next morning, Harry was rudely awakened by several owls hooting in his face. Hedwig and the usual school owl were the closest, as well as an unfamiliar great horned owl. Several others were about him, and he untied each of them, letting them eat from the plate of Mediterranean fruit delicacies that appeared near the couch. He himself sampled a few grapes and an olive stuffed with Feta cheese. He found that though it was a little bit strong, that he liked the taste, though Hedwig gave him a disgruntled look after she sampled an olive, then stuck to the grapes. Harry took a sip of the wine, and looked closely at it, smiling at the tasty, syrupy drink.

He unwrapped Hedwig's package first, and found a beautiful leather bound book on potions from Hermione. Where she had gotten it was anybody's guess, because it was a very rare book. Ron's gift was a poisonous snake, as long as a boa constrictor, yet smart enough to carry out orders and multitask at the same time, it was a valuable creature to a Parselmouth like him. He looked at the immense snake, which looked in turn at him out of great amber eyes. He flattened a hood that mimicked that of a cobra, and bowed deeply.

_Your majesty, I will ever serve you as you have delayed the Dark Lord's return, and you are the descendant of the mightiest warrior king ever to grace the face of this planet. All shall bow down to you, and your enemies shall despair. You are the greatest person since your ancestor. He in turn was truly the son of Zeus-Amun, and so you have divine blood as well. The humble Ptolemaic greets you, my King._

_Ptolemaic? Like the General Ptolemy? I remember him… he got all of Egypt, and was Cleopatra VII ancestor,_ Bucephalus commented.

_Yes, like the general. I am a great strategist, while Bucephalus is a great horse and a mighty warrior. He will proudly bear you to any doom, but I will help you to defeat your enemy._

_Thanks, Ptolemaic and Bucephalus. Okay, what else do I have? _He ripped open the packages, and found a letter from Hagrid explaining to him that he couldn't ship his gift, because he would rip apart the packaging and would be hunting too many game birds and would be seen too easily, which frightened Harry considerably. He also found a homemade cake and sweater from Mrs. Weasley, a beautiful wooden stag from Remus, a case of Chocolate Frogs from Ron, and an obscure yet quite beautiful rose from Neville: When he sat it down, it kept facing only one direction, seemingly twisting its stem all out of proportion.

_A compass rose! They're very rare, and valued highly by seamen and travelers alike. It will be very useful! _Ptolemaic hissed in appreciation. Harry bit into one of the frogs, and looked at the card. The picture showed a man in his late twenties or early thirties with curly blonde hair, grey eyes, and a black horse that looked remarkably like Bucephalus. The card proclaimed him to be Alexander the Great.

Then, he saw another package delivered by a huge jet black eagle owl. The package was long and thin, and as he removed it, he found a Thunderbolt, the newest top of the line broom. He didn't even know they existed, and looked at the slim handle, aerodynamic features, and beautiful jet black color with twigs of both black and silver. The card said that it was made of Broomstick Ebony, a very rare tree, and the silver twigs were of Narnian Silvertree branches, imported from a very long way. Then, he saw the other papers. One was obviously a picture because he could see an arm flailing out from under the other pictures, and as he moved them out of the way, he found several candid pictures of his mother and father. The one that was flailing about was his father taking his mother on a broom ride.

"_I promised your mother to give these pictures to any children she had. I just found them in my attic, and gave them to you. The broomstick was just a bonus my fiancée asked me to get you. I hope that you have a good year, Harry. _

_Anon."_

Harry stared at the letter. An old friend of his mother's had given these to him? Who was Anon? He knew that the abbreviation meant anonymous, so he hoped he would be able to find who the writer was.

_Come on, pack up the presents, send the owls back to their own times, set Ptolemaic on your shoulders, get dressed into the tunic, armor and trousers there, then come out and tack me up, and we will be on our way back to England._ Harry did as he was bid, then shrank the food, and another platter appeared in its place, that Harry shrank again. When the third platter appeared, he brought it outside and began to eat the olives, grapes, lamb, beef and chicken breakfast, Ptolemaic around his shoulders. He clumsily tacked up the large stallion, and then put the other horses on lunge lines with their bridles and saddles on, his presents in the other horse's saddlebags. Ptolemaic wrapped himself around the pommel of Ash's saddle, frightening the poor mare until Bucephalus calmed her down. Harry leapt into the saddle, gripping the stallion's ribcage with his knees, and the herd of horses Apparated directly to 4 Privet Dr.

* * *

Vernon Dursley was eating his grapefruit when a large group of horses and a man in extremely archaic Greek clothing and armor appeared in his backyard. He choked on his grapefruit for a few seconds, and then stared at the man until he recognized him.

"Boy, get off that monster and get to work! How did that horse end up here anyways?"

"Uncle Vernon, I'm not a slave of the household, but am Harry James Potter, boy-who-lived, Gryphindor seeker, and Heir of one of the greatest kings ever to grace the surface of the planet."

"What?" Vernon laughed.

"King Alexander III son of King Phillip II of Macedonia."

"Who is that?" Petunia asked, staring at the horses, which were now munching on a group of shrubs. Harry dismounted, transfigured a rock into a large stable, and set to work making his horses comfortable. He then added a fairly large one-story flat on top of the stable for himself, and wrapped Ptolemaic about his shoulders. By the time he was finished it was lunchtime, and he was very hungry, so went in and enlarged one of the platters of Greek food.

"You're welcome to have some. It's actually very tasty." Petunia nervously sampled a slice of lamb, as lamb had been her favorite meat until she married Vernon and he banned it from the house. She closed her eyes in bliss, licking the remains off of her lips. Harry transfigured a fork into a plate full of lamb, olives, Feta cheese, ripe cherry tomatoes, tzaziki sauce, and a few leaves of lettuce. Aunt Petunia dug right in, having her first Greek dinner in over twenty years, and loving it.

"What's the meaning of this, boy? You come with a group of horses, then turning forks into plates of weird food, now Petunia is eating it? What is this?"

"Here, Uncle Vernon. I'll get you a plate of Greek cuisine." And Harry did so, but Vernon wasn't too pleased with the food. He thought it tasted too strong for his tastes. Harry went outside after his lunch was finished, and spoke with Bucephalus and Ptolemaic to learn how to use strategy and the instincts of a warrior much like Alexander had, then how to keep as many of his people alive as possible.

_Okay, Harry. Say that Voldemort were to attack Hogwarts directly, and you have all the teachers and students inside. Voldemort uses harsh spells that are meant to kill and maim. What do you do with the attack so that the least amount of your forces is demolished and Voldemort and all of his followers are either killed or apprehended by the Minestry? _

_Okay. Well, I'll send transfigured dummies that have had a substitutiary locomotion spell placed on them to scout the walls and to make the Death Eaters waste some of their spells. Then, I'll use spell-proof armor, like I have from Alexander, and use spell-incresers to modify the spells for wide-target areas to take out groups of people with say a Stunner, or to perminately stick their feet to the ground. That would be good, they'd be going to Azkaban with clods of soil stuck to their feet when we dig them up._

_That sounds like a good plan, but how will you obtain the spell incresers? Or the substitutiary locomotion spell?Not to mention the reality of the dummies to fool Voldemort. He's tough to fool, and he will be looking for something like this._

_Only if he has a mole in the Order._

_Maybe we can reverse the situation. Do you have any moles in _his_ group?_

_Yes. Severus Snape. He's in Voldemort's inner circle._

_Excellent._

_I say take the group by force, using Ptolemaic's ideas to create several strategies then rushing the Death Eaters. Since you are related, through Olympius' line to the mighty Achilles, you should be one of the greatest warriors ever seen. What do you say, Ptolemaic?_

_I agree that he has unbelieveable heritage, what with Phillip, Alexander, and Achilles as his ancestors, not to mention Zeus, but your ideas for attack are not a good idea. We need a better plan of action. Until then, we will wait in the castle for him to come to us. That way, we're fresh, and they are worn out._

_Alright, Ptolemaic, Bucephalus. I'll stick to your advice. Thanks, guys.

* * *

_

Celebwen Telcontar: Well, how did you like it? The strategy was created by myself, though I am no strategist, I think it may work. If the Gods are on our side. If Zeus demolishes the opposing force. How about the food? Personally, I, though being Wisconsin born and bred, raised in Colorado, I favor Greek cuisine over any others, including the traditional fries and burger. As for Kalamata olives stuffed with authentic Feta sheep cheese, I love it! Yum… oh this is making me hungry! Oh and that tzaziki sauce… oooh, yummy! Delicious!

Balrog: Disgusting. Too soft and cold. And it's… what is it? Bitter, or vinegary… yuck. I much prefer a gneiss and magnetite sundae with melted galena extract as a sauce, with crushed sulfur and ochre sprinkles, a stick of pegmatite, a bowl of granite, and a spoon of diamond dipped in magma with a coating of crushed graphite.

Celebwen Telcontar: Uhhh… no thank you. I'd rather keep all of my teeth, and feast on Greek food. Anyways, I have the next installment coming up relatively soon. Please review! I hope _someone's_ out there now…


	2. Preparations

Celebwen Telcontar: I would like to say a few things before we get on with the story. I've had some reviews that are slightly confused. I did make a mistake by making Ron give two presents, but I have corrected that, and Dumbledore gave Harry Ptolemaic. Also, there was another reviewer who expressed concern that Harry was too powerful. The way I see it is that Harry knew all of the spells, including Apparition, but he couldn't use them until he was seventeen or he would get expelled. Thanks for reviewing! LOL!!

The Leaky Cauldron was relatively full for this time of day, and Tom was kept busy by the customers. Several of the Hogwarts students were checked into the rooms. As he was cleaning a glass, he heard the Knight Bus screech to a deafening halt by the curbside, and a young black-haired man in expensive clothing got off.

"Tom. It's me, Harry Potter. I'd like a nice cold Butterbeer, if you please," Harry said. He lifted a snake the size of a garter snake, and returned it to its normal size of over twenty feet long, and then he touched a horse pendant on his neck.

"Harry Potter?! Well, so it is."

"I'd like a room, please, and some space that my horse can run around in."

"Horse? Did I miss something?" Harry unclasped the chain holding the black horse pendant, set it on the floor, and Transfigured it back into Bucephalus, who neighed and jingled his bridle in greeting. "Well, that's certainly a large horse. It'll need some space."

"No kidding. Is there anywhere I can exercise him here?"

"You can ride it up and down Diagon Alley, but I don't see anything else you can do with it. I'd suggest you keep it in the area behind the pub but in front of the Alley, transfigure or conjure several bales of hay, and maybe a stall for it, and Vanish the… er…"

"Dung?"

"Yes."

"Thanks, Tom." He did as Tom had suggested, but magically enlarged the area to hold a relatively large paddock that was fenced in for Bucephalus to stretch his legs from time to time. The grass had the same charms the plates at Hogwarts had; making sure that it was always full and fresh. A clear pond near one end had the water supply for the stallion, and a tack shed as well as a stall for the horse.

"How long are you going to stay, Mister Potter?"

"Until September 1st. It won't be too long, I hope."

"Just under a month."

"Just under a month?! _Ptolemaic, should we return to the palace until it is time for school to start?_

_That would be wise. The home is impenetrable. _

_Literally?!_

_Quite. You should go to Professor Dumbledore first, and tell him about your new acquisitions and homes before you go running off there, though._

_I quite agree._

The pub had gone silent while Harry was talking with Ptolemaic, and now people were beginning conversations again.

_ Come on, Harry. I'll need to train you tomorrow on how to ride me with a sword. I don't want you flying off of my back, or managing to hack my head off. And I think you should do the same as Alexander did, and sleep with a copy of the Iliad under your pillow, next to a knife or your wand. _

_Bucephalus, you idiot horse, don't tell him what to do on the grounds of literature and strategy! That's my area of expertise! Yours is keeping him in the saddle and keeping him from killing anyone on his side of the battlefield!_

_ Perhaps. But still, I need to train him on the ethics of battle, and several of those are in the Iliad. _

_Ethics of battle?! Did I miss something? Battle has no ethics! It has moves and ways to keep yourself from being killed, but that does not mean that it has ethics!_

_ The ethics of battle require that you uphold your enemy's wishes for their body, which Achilles disregarded when he dragged Hector's body around the walls of Troy three times by his ankles! _

_If there were any ethics to battle, then why did the mighty Achilles, whom you swear to have done no wrong, could have broken them? That proves to me that there are no ethics to battle, stupid equine! Harry_ had had quite enough of this by now.

"Alright, you two. If you want to fight for who's going to be training me, then you can do it outside, where I don't have to hear it." Ptolemaic looked properly chastised, and Bucephalus tipped his head sideways, flicked back his ears slightly, and turned his rump on the tavern.

_ Harry, training begins tomorrow. I hope you don't break bones easily, because I am no soft taskmaster, and you'll have bruises to say the very least when I am through with you! _

_He is right, Harry. We need to whip you into shape in a short amount of time to be ready for Tom Riddle when he decides you've had too much leisure time. I would suggest you reform that army of yours, and use the other horses to get them into shape as well. Would anyone be thinking of you riding into battle on horseback, yelling, and wielding both wand and sword, wearing the armor of Alexander the Great? He never lost a battle, you know. Maybe we can take some of his battles to our use…_

_ How would Tom Riddle react if you sent a huge heard of elephants into his armies? _Bucephalus asked.

"Probably think I've lost my mind."

_Precisely! Well, you need to get to bed in order to be fresh for the morning workout._

Celebwen Telcontar: Well, how do you like it? Good enough for you?

Balrog: Food! (Mouth is full with different kinds of rocks)

Celebwen Telcontar: I'll take that as a compliment.


	3. Sorry about the long update!

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to wait so long!!**_

_**Balrog: What? You're actually updating that story? I thought you abandoned it.**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: I didn't! Well, here it is, people!**_

* * *

Albus Dumbledore looked at the parchment. Hippodorous Zorkos had sent this to him: the ancient Macedonian palace at Pella had been rebuilt. Horses in the areas that had been governed by King Alexander III of Macedonia and any of his descendants—which included what had been the Roman Empire, courtesy of Queen Cleopatra VII, who married Julius Caesar—were rebelling. The wards set by any of Alexander's descendants were reverting back to Alexander's Heir. Since Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin had been related directly to the Macedonian royal line, albeit far back, the Hogwarts wards and magic were rebelling. This morning he had tried to get into his office, and the gargoyle had made a rude gesture at him and blew a raspberry. Now his office was in an unused classroom he had tried to convert. He had attempted to use a portrait as the door, until the portrait of the giraffe had simply looked at him with disdain and defecated at Albus' feet in the painting. The portraits had long since been very obnoxious, especially Sir Cadogan, who had led a pair of lost Hufflepuff first years into the dungeons purposefully when they had tried to get to the North Tower.

* * *

The woman ran through the countryside. She was escaping her husband and brothers-in-law, who both wanted her dead.

_If I use magic, I'm dead. If I give myself up to them, I'm _worse_ than dead. A fence; must be a Muggle yard. I can hide there. Thank God Andromeda taught me Muggle lock picking._

She vaulted the tall fence, and landed in a patch of briars, with the only sound being the crunching and the snapping of the branches. The woman bit her tongue until coppery tasting blood filled her mouth, softly spat, and struggled out of the briars. Then, she saw that it must be a Wizard's yard. A stable sat at one side of the fence, and about fifty horses were grazing or staring at her. A light grey mare walked over and looked at her, then went to her knees. _This horse wants me on her back! Maybe I _can _get away!_ She rukked her robes up about her hips and swung her leg over the mare's back. The grey mare pulled herself to her feet, softly snorted, and the horses looked at her. She gave a soft whinny as the woman heard swearing and crunching branches behind her.

"Damn it all!" the woman's husband roared in a harsh whisper. The grey mare whickered lightly, and two horses ran in one direction, leaping the fence. Then, the herd, the grey mare in the lead, ran at the fence, hurtling it. Then, a long and grueling run began.

* * *

The woman groaned as her legs protested the long run. The mare stopped in the wild countryside, looked around, and trotted to a stand of trees. Then, she lowered herself to her knees, and the woman dismounted painfully. The mare looked up and ripped several branches from the tree, creating a large area for the woman to sleep on, and she walked off to relieve her bladder and lay down on the makeshift bed. Then the two horses sent off by the grey, which she now called Moonshadow, came up, both bearing a bag. The first was a haversack, and in it was a full water bottle, and a set of Muggle clothes suited for horseback riding. In the other were two loaves of good bread, a large wheel of cheese, and a tub of butter. The woman took a drink from the water bottle, then ripped a piece of bread off of the heel and a piece of cheese off of the wheel, and began to eat. A refugee she was, but where remarkable and intelligent horses were concerned, she was not alone. She may have been a Death Eater, but she now repudiated that life, and decided to help the Boy Who Lived, if she could. If Moonshadow and her herd took her someplace she could help.

"I'm a reformed woman, Moonshadow. No longer will I deal in evil ways," she declared. The horse neighed and nuzzled her.

* * *

"What, exactly, do I own?" Harry asked Bucephalus and Ptolemaic.

_From Alexander, you have all of his conquests: the Middle East, and part of Africa, not to mention Greece. When Alexander died, his generals split up his territories into smaller, more manageable kingdoms. Ptolemy got Egypt; one of his descendants was Queen Cleopatra VII. She wed with Julius Caesar and bore him at least one child. Thus, through that child, you have also inherited the Roman Empire, which has multiple overlaps with Alexander's kingdom. _Ptolemaic explained.

_:You also own every colony those parts of the Greek and Roman Empires owned. So basically you own everything in the world save China, Japan, and everything in between. By the way, I've been keeping an 'eye' on Dumbledore. He wants to control you to keep you from becoming too powerful.:_

_Then we keep Dumbledore from knowing about this. You will have so much better of an advantage if all he and the Ministry know is that the King of Macedonia has arisen. You should to take a pseudonym, preferably an ancient one of great power. Hmmm…_ Ptolemaic tapped the end of his tail on the ground, like a human would tap their fingers on the table. _We should go to Pella until August 31, by the Julian calendar. Get on Bucephalus, the horses are fine where they are, back at Privet Dr._ Harry did as he was told, and the Apparated aback to the Macedonian palace.

* * *

_:Harry, how's Hector? It begins with an H, he was royal, and he was a great soldier and horse trainer."_

_And he was killed by Achilles. Don't forget that._

_:Okay, never mind about Hector. How's Patroclus?:_

_Killed by Hector. He was Achilles' lover._

_:Odysseus?:_

_Harry'd never remember to respond to it!_

_:Will you stop being contrary, you bloody snake?!:_

_Only if you stop giving idiotic answers, moronic equine!_

"Both of you, shut up! I'm getting a headache! How's Alexander IV?"

_:Good, I agree. What about you, serpent?:_

_No it's too great a name. And besides, you won't answer to it!_

_:Now you're just being contrary!:_

_And what if I am?_

_:Alexander IV is not too great a name to not be used. That's some name like Zeus, or maybe another god. He'd show that he's been respectful towards the ancients._

_Ugh. You're right, horse.. Alexander IV you will be, Harry._

_:Now you need servants, clerks, secretaries, cooks, and a wife. A wife who can rule, who knows of the enemy and any plans they may have, and one you can learn to love. Love will come later, but for now we need a good woman with a good head on her shoulders.:_ Bucephalus stopped speaking as both Ptolemaic and Harry looked at him.

_For once, horse, you're actually making sense. Who would have thought?_ Ptolemaic hissed.

* * *

Days had passed. The herd of horses swam the English Channel, without the Death Eaters knowing, in the middle of the night, with the new moon hiding them.

Her legs were freezing, she was completely soaked, and her extremities were numb when the herd of horses walked onto dry land in what was presumably France. The horses sped up to a gentle canter, and the woman gritted her teeth and held on with benumbed fingers. The bread, cheese, and fresh picked apples seemed ages ago, though she had eaten them just before they and entered the icy Channel water.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_:Ash,: _Bucephalus' voice called.

_I'm not Ash_ Moonshadow replied. _My mane is Moonshadow, and I've found the perfect Queen of Macedonia. Kind, a reformed Death Eater, knows the enemy and their habits, and is used to ruling a household. Yes, I know a household isn't the same thing as a country, much less an empire, but she is the best we have._

_:Good. Right now, I'll be willing even to put up with that Lestrange woman until we can get a good queen on the soil. Harry, now Alexander IV, will be going to a Muggle University.:_

_A Muggle university?! What about a philosopher to teach him?_

_:The philosophers are now the Universities, Ash…Moonshadow. Sorry, there. Well, here we go. We need to get everything together to send him off.:_

* * *

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Sorry about the slow update. I'm revamping the entire story, so hopefully this will keep you guys busy for a while. Now, who is the woman, may you ask?**_

_**Balrog: How long has it been…?**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: (Looks sheepish) I really don't know. **_

_**Balrog: Hmmmph.**_


End file.
